


Fortune Cookies

by knlalla



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Coffee Shops, First Meetings, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Phan - Freeform, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 09:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12932277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knlalla/pseuds/knlalla
Summary: Dan gets a fortune cookie and it's been bugging him all day. But he's NOT superstitious. (Dan POV)





	1. Fucking Fortune Cookies

_True love will find you sooner than you think._

 

I cannot _believe_ this bullshit. I’m never superstitious, but this is just a whole other level of nonsense. ‘True love’ my ass - not only have I barely spoken to _anyone_ today, but not a single one of them is my ‘true love’. _Fucking fortune cookies._

 

I’ve spent most of the morning in the coffee shop trying to do some research for this awful paper I’m meant to be writing, but I can’t concentrate. As much as I don’t really believe in fortunes or anything like that, I was kind of hoping _something_ would happen. Maybe I’d meet a dog, that would be fine.

 

But no, instead I’ve had a shit day, full of shit research and shit people. _I don’t even fucking_ like _law, and here I am spending hours sitting in a secluded corner pretending to be into this and it’s just..._ I drop my head into my hands, groaning in frustration. I’d been to another shop before this, but everywhere I sat, I was constantly overhearing chatter and getting distracted. That being said, this place is barely any better - I’m currently watching the couple across the way make love-eyes at each other over the top of my laptop, and I can’t tell if the feeling in my gut is disgust or longing.

 

Okay, so the stupid fortune from last night’s Chinese food is kind of getting to me.

 

I’ve already analyzed every person I’ve come into contact with today, much to my own chagrin - I really need to get started on this paper, and I’ve barely begun reading the required materials. There was a rude older woman who actually turned her nose up at me as she walked by, the barista who made my coffee at the first shop and got the order wrong, a little girl who’d run smack into my legs and made me spill said coffee on the pavement as I made my way toward this shop, and then the barista here. At least the guy here had gotten my order right, but I really couldn’t imagine him being my ‘true love’ - he was even more disinterested in interaction than I was, which is saying something.

 

I realize now I’ve reread the same paragraph four times. Well, my eyes have scanned the page on my laptop four times, but I can’t even begin to guess what it’s about. _Why am I letting a stupid fortune cookie distract me this much? I know this law stuff isn’t_ that _interesting, but am I really thinking I’ll find true love in a coffee shop? Because a_ cookie _told me so?_

 

I stand, closing the lid of my laptop and sliding it into my bag before heading toward the exit. _At least at home I won’t have so many distractions_ , I decide, casting another casual glance at the couple - still grossly lovey-dovey - as I pass. I let my mind wander, pushing open the door and running directly into someone trying to enter.

 

“Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” I’m suddenly immensely glad I decided against ordering another coffee to go, knowing it would’ve spilled all over this poor guy. Who’s staring at me in confusion. “Uh, sorry?” I try again, wondering if I’d spoken too quietly. He shakes his head, then smiles brightly.

 

“No problem, happens to me all the time. I’m such a klutz, I swear,” he chuckles, and it’s kind of contagious - I’m smiling back at him before I realize it. “Phil,” he fixes bright blue eyes on me and extends a hand.

 

“Dan,” I reach out tentatively, but his grip is warm and soft and something in my chest sparks at the contact. I’ll admit, I hold on a little longer than I probably should, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I manage to convince my hand to let go of his, and it drops to my side uncomfortably. “Oh,” I step aside, allowing him to pass, “sorry, still in your way,” I stare at the pavement beneath my feet, holding the door for him.

 

“Such a gentleman,” he chuckles again, and I find myself smiling and bowing sarcastically.

 

“At your service, sir,” I quip, earning me a full laugh. I’m tempted to follow him in, but that would be extremely awkward - right? _I mean, I ran into him as I was leaving...it’d be weird of me to just go back in now. Although…_

 

I rush through the door back into the shop, queuing up behind him. He must notice, because he turns toward me as I come to a stop. _This was a mistake, he must think I’m some kind of stalker or something_. I rock back and forth on the balls of my feet anxiously.

 

“Nice of you to join me,” he smirks, and I feel a blush creep up my cheeks.

 

“Right, I realized I meant to grab a coffee to go,” I’m talking to the floor, trying to hide my embarrassment, but he doesn’t respond. It takes me a full ten seconds to realize he’s stepped forward, up to the counter to place his order. I’m shocked when he beckons me to join him, enough so that I walk over without thinking.

 

“I’ll have a caramel macchiato, please, and Dan?” He looks at me expectantly, and I can only blink in response. _Is he buying me a drink? What on earth is happening right now?_ He stares for another moment, lifting an eyebrow, and that startles me out of my paralysis. _I can just pay him back after, I guess_.

 

“Uh, same for me,” I nod, shifting my eyes back to the floor. He pays, and I pull my wallet from my pocket.

 

“Please, don’t,” I feel a hand on my arm, gentle, and I look up. Phil’s fixing me with a small smile, though his look is firm. “I insist, for running into you earlier.” I must look like a fish, the way my mouth is opening and closing, but I can’t think of anything to say.

 

“Uh, thanks,” I manage after a moment, “but _I_ ran into _you_ , I wasn’t paying any attention. Let me at least...uh...pay for your drink?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to smack my forehead. _Idiot, we ordered the same thing. That’s basically just paying for my own drink_. He must think the same thing, because he lets out a soft laugh before walking off to grab our cups.

 

“Sure, Dan, you can pay for mine,” he responds once he returns. I’m a little surprised, but I don’t argue - I was the one who offered it. I take my drink and hand him a few bucks, then follow him to the same table I was sat at just minutes ago. _Wait. I literally just told him I was on my way out, grabbing a drink to go, and.._.it’s at this point I realize I’m holding a ceramic mug, not a to-go cup; I sit down across from him.

 

I fidget quietly for a few moments, stirring my drink and blowing on it. Phil’s doing the same, though he doesn’t seem nearly as uncomfortable.

 

“I hope I’m not keeping you,” his voice is low, and I look up to see him smirking at me; his eyes are sparkling with amusement.

 

“I...uh..well, I...the drink, it’s…” I mumble for a few seconds, trying to come up with a good reason, but he’s just...staring, smiling. Instead, I take a sip of my still-hot drink, letting the slight burn pull everything back into focus.

 

“Though, it would be pretty rude of you to leave so early into our first date,” he lifts an eyebrow at me when I nearly choke on the coffee, then takes a sip himself. _Smug asshole_ . I’m surprised my own thoughts have taken on a... _fond_ tone. _Fine, flirty bants? I can do that_.

 

“A date, is it? That’s a bit presumptuous of you,” I smirk when his grin falters. “I mean, a lady of my stature, you’ve got to do quite a bit of courting before I’d agree to go on a _date_.” I smile into my coffee, taking a long sip.

 

“Well, then this’ll be our pre-date. I’ll just have to ask you out for a proper date later,” he tilts his head, and I’m suddenly acutely aware of my own heart rate: it’s _very_ fast. I hum in response, not trusting my voice to hide the bolts of nerves and excitement flashing through me. I set my mug down on the table, clutching onto it like a lifeline to steady myself.

 

“And who says I’ll agree to a proper date?” I hope he catches that I’m not serious, because _damn_ if I wouldn’t say yes in a heartbeat, but this little spar is thrilling. I realize I’m already halfway done with my drink, and I force myself to slow down. _I don’t want to leave yet_.

 

“Oh, I know you will,” he smirks again, and the curve of his lips is incredibly distracting. I don’t have words, they’ve fully left me now, so I just stare for a little longer. He takes a slow sip of his drink as he leans forward on his elbows. He looks... _a lot of things, he looks...jesus christ._ But he looks absolutely triumphant. Aside from the tiny bit of foam that’s stuck on his lip.

 

I don’t think about it, just lean over and reach out to wipe it away with my thumb, but his look goes from smug to shocked in a matter of seconds; it’s exactly the courage I need. I lock eyes with his, then slowly lick the cream off my thumb. I’m not trying to make it sexual ( _am I?_ ), but the way his pupils dilate - his eyes are wide, he’s not blinked since I leaned over - is more than exciting. It’s been a _very_ long time since anyone looked at me that way.

 

“You should close your mouth, bug might fly in,” I tease - and _damn_ if I’m not having fun being a tease, especially with the way it’s winding him up - then drop my gaze to my own drink. I take long, slow sips and try not to look up at him, in case I lose my nerve and come up with some excuse to run away.

 

Anxiety has me finishing my drink before I realize it, and I have nowhere to look but back up to Phil. Who’s still staring, but in a much less...well, it’s a different kind of stare.

 

“What?” I ask, but he just smiles.

 

“All finished?” I nod, and he takes the mug from me. He’s left his phone on the table, so I assume he’s coming back. If I knew he wouldn’t be back for a bit longer, I might have enough bravery to add my number... _don’t be silly, he’s probably got it locked. Besides, he’s already back._

 

His arm reaches around me and across the table, grabbing his phone, and I wonder why he didn’t just walk over to the side he was sitting on. Until I turn to stand, and realize he’s stood less than a foot from me. And there’s a wall on the other side. _Fucking hell_ . I stand carefully, trying to keep a respectable amount of space between us, though I’m dragged in close by oceanic eyes the moment I look up to meet his gaze. _He fucking planned this. Not that I’m complaining_.

 

“Shall we?” His voice is low, and I can feel his breath on my lips - we’re about the same height, and if either of us leaned in just a bit, we’d be…

 

“Yeah,” I release the breath I’ve been holding, stepping aside so we’re no longer basically pressed up against each other. My heart is pounding in my ears, and I barely have the mental capacity to follow him when he walks ahead of me and out the door. “So, where are you headed?” I take a few quick steps to catch up so I’m walking alongside him.

 

“I was, uh, headed home. Got a paper to work on,” all my confidence from earlier has been drained dry, only nerves are left.

 

“And which way is home?” He asks, and I have to take a few seconds to get my bearings. We’re walking in the wrong direction, toward a park, and I have to debate for a minute internally before deciding what to say. _I don’t want to just...turn around and leave, plus that’d be embarrassing._

 

“Uh, actually, the other way,” I hike a thumb over my shoulder, “but I’m not in any rush,” _not true_ . My cheeks flush a bit. “Where are you off to?” I ask after a second, realizing he might actually have somewhere to be. _Shit, he’s probably about to tell me to get lost._ He doesn’t speak for a moment, so I look up - I’ve been watching the pavement closely as we walked - to find him pointing at the park.

 

“There, for now,” he smiles at me, and I drop my gaze again. “Care to join me?” I nod, and he hums in response. We walk in silence, crossing the small road and passing under the ornate iron arch that marks the entrance to the park. I’m startled from the comfortable quiet when a hand finds mine and I’m being dragged across the grass toward a small pond.

 

“Look!” Phil whisper-shouts, pointing with his free hand at the family of ducks floating a few feet out. There are four baby ducklings trailing behind a mother, and Phil looks enraptured. I, however, am very focused on the hand that grabbed mine. The one that’s _still holding mine_. He hasn’t let go, and I don’t want to let go, but he catches me staring. “Oh, sorry, I just got excited,” he chuckles and drops my hand.

 

If him holding my hand startled me, I’m even more surprised by the small blush that creeps up his cheeks. _He’s been nothing but confident since I met him_. The fact that he’s a little nervous, no matter how well he’s hidden it behind a laugh, is comforting. And encouraging. I reach out and take his hand, entwining our fingers.

 

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” my voice is quiet; I’m not sure how I feel about this shift in our conversation, how shy I’ve become, but something about it is just as exciting as the casual flirtatious banter from earlier. _And he didn’t let go this time_.

 

We’re both silent again. Phil’s staring off at the ducks, but I’m studying _him_ from the corner of my eye - everything about him speaks of fearless self-expression: his stark black hair stands out against his pale skin, and he’s wearing a bright button-up and dark skinny jeans, but it’s deeper than his appearance. Even in the brief conversations I’ve had with him, he’s not restrained, not afraid to say what’s on his mind - not afraid to take my hand, or (sort of) ask me on a date, or be _exactly_ as close to me as he wants. Me, some random guy who ran into him in a coffee shop. Literally.

 

“What’s on your mind?” His voice is inquisitive but not forceful, and I’m pretty sure I could just say ‘nothing’ and he’d accept it with a smile, but just being around him makes me feel like I can be myself, be just as fearless.

 

“You.” It’s barely a squeak, and I must sound so silly that I’m immediately regretting it until he gives my hand a small squeeze. I look up to find him smiling brightly at me, and it gives me the confidence to continue. “Why me?” I ask, hoping he’ll understand my question, though I’ve never been excellent at expressing my own self-doubt in a serious manner; I usually hide my insecurities behind self-deprecating jokes. He tilts his head, eyes raking across my body. I bite my lip at the way it makes my heart race.

 

“Well, aside from being _incredibly_ attractive,” he smirks at my reaction - I’m sure my face is already bright red. “I got a fortune cookie last night that said I might run into someone today. And I just had a really good feeling about you,” his smirk turns into a soft smile, and I swear my heart stops beating.

 

_Fucking fortune cookies._


	2. No More Fortune Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil have been together for a couple months, now, and Dan's kind of obsessed with fortune cookies. But he's definitely not at all superstitious, seriously. (Dan POV).

Okay. I am  _ not _ superstitious. But...I’ve kind of become obsessed with fortune cookies. I think Phil’s even caught on, with how often I suggest we get Chinese takeout. But how am I supposed to ignore the fact that fortune cookies literally  _ brought us together _ ? That can’t possibly be a coincidence, for such a random meeting - far too many things had to go just the right way.

 

Which is why I’m so fucking stressed right now. We got Chinese last night, and I can’t get that damned fortune out of my head.

 

_ Change can hurt, but it will open the way for something better _ .

 

How the fuck am I meant to interpret that? If the other fortune brought us  _ together _ , what does this one mean? Is something going to happen? Is he breaking up with me? I mean, we’ve only known each other for a few months, but still...I can’t imagine life without him now. We mesh kind of perfectly, and I think being around him has made me more myself than I’ve ever been.

 

Maybe...maybe the first cookie was wrong, and he’s not my true love. Or maybe I met the person and didn’t even realize it, and this is the universe saying ‘hey, guess what, it was someone else!’. But then, what about his fortune? Maybe it was  _ too  _ much of a coincidence. I mean, it’s not like I deserve someone as amazing as Phil, anyway.

 

“Dan!” I lift my head - I’ve spent the last hour scrolling aimlessly; honestly I’m not even trying to pretend to study at this point. “Can you come watch this? I need your opinion,” I have to smile, though.  _ It’s nice to hear he not only  _ wants _ me around, but  _ needs _ me, even for something as simple as giving my thoughts on his videos. _

 

“Sure, coming.” The videos are always so...Phil. Watching them is like seeing a little piece of him put on a screen for a few minutes, and I love to take all those things, along with what I already know about him, to make this collage of who he is. And there’s always more. I set my laptop aside, standing and making my way down the hall to the office he’s editing in. I’ve spent so much time at his place lately, I’m almost more familiar with it than my own flat.

 

“Okay, so I’m not sure about one part, but just watch it and say if something sticks out or sounds wonky,” he comments, rolling himself and his chair back to give me room. I found his videos the day after I met him, but I was a little worried to admit I watched them - if it were me, I’d be embarrassed that some guy I was into was seeing everything I put out for the world. But once I told him, he started asking me to watch every single video before posting them, and it makes me feel...special.

 

“Phil, this looks great, as always,” I pause the video at the end, just as his hand’s covering the camera, and turn toward him. He’s scooted a little closer, like he was watching me watch the video, so I give him a bright smile - he still looks uncertain.

 

“Are you sure that wording wasn’t too weird, in the middle bit?” I laugh - he’s rarely so self-conscious.

 

“Phil,  _ you’re _ weird, that’s why we love you,” I don’t even realize what I’ve said until I’ve said it, and then I’m blushing furiously. “I mean, why we, uh, as your  _ audience _ , love your  _ videos _ ,” I try to backtrack, but he’s staring at me with  _ that look _ and I’m not sure what to say, or what to do, so I clear my throat and spin back to the computer.  _ Is that true? Do I love him? _ The flutter in my chest answers my question for me.

 

“I love you too, Dan,” his voice behind me is soft, and he wraps his arms around me and pulls me back into him. I collapse into his lap, entirely dumbstruck by what he’s just said.  _ He...does? _ If my heart was fluttering before, it’s all but flown away now, and I can barely hear anything above the hammering in my eardrums.

 

He wraps a hand around the nape of my neck and brings me toward him, and I inhale sharply the moment before his lips meet mine.  _ This is real. He loves me. And I love him. Jesus christ. _

 

We exchange lazy kisses for several minutes before I pull away and duck my head into the crook of his neck. I don’t know if I can look at him just yet, with this revelation, this admission, hanging in the air around us.  _ I love him _ . I nuzzle into him as his thumb rubs soft circles at a spot on my lower back.

 

“So the video’s good, then?” Phil breaks the silence, and I bark out a laugh, smacking him lightly in the chest.

 

“Phil! You can’t just...yeah, the video’s good, go post it you spork,” I pull away, and he’s grinning at me, so I climb out of his lap and let him upload the video to his channel. I have to give him props, though, for what he does - putting his life, the little tidbits of it that he does share, out on the internet for everyone in the world to see; I don’t think I could ever do that. I mean, it would be really cool, sure, but I don’t have the self-confidence that Phil does.

 

“Hey, do you want to order something for dinner tonight? Chinese maybe?” Phil calls after me - I’ve left the room, intending to...well, that’s fully bullshit. I have no intentions to study. Just pretend to study. At least, I did, until Phil mentioned Chinese food.  _ That fucking fortune cookie. _ Wouldn’t it be just the cruelest twist of fate to have Phil say he loves me right before he breaks up with me? I mean, he did just kind of gloss over the whole ‘I love you’ thing…

 

“Uh, maybe not. How about pizza?” I suggest. Pizza can’t hurt the way a fortune can.  _ I sound like a proper superstitious idiot. _ I hear a confirmation from Phil, so I settle back onto the sofa and place an order for us. 

 

“How’s studying going?” Phil asks, plopping down beside me on the couch. I quickly close Tumblr and pull up one of the several documents I’m meant to be reviewing. He glances over, catching the disgustingly large blocks of text, then opens up his own laptop. We spend a lot of time just sitting with each other in comfortable silence - I fake-study (okay, I read a lot of fanfiction, mostly the Phil x reader stuff - not that I’d ever tell him that - and the blocks of text are convincing enough that he rarely looks for more than a few seconds) while Phil usually just edits videos or browses the internet, or posts to twitter or some other social media. 

 

“Eh, it’s alright,” I lie, an ugly feeling squirming in my gut. I can’t for the  _ life _ of me get into law - I really tried, at first, but now it’s just...well, giant blocks of text that I can’t be bothered to read. That I can’t be bothered to  _ care _ about. “Mind if I stay tonight?” I ask, though it’s basically become a habit on any day I don’t have class in the morning.

 

“Of course,” Phil glances up at me with a smile, and I return it halfheartedly before standing.  _ Maybe a shower will help me feel less yucky about lying to him _ .

 

“In that case, I’m gonna go hop in the shower before the pizza gets here,” Phil grunts in acknowledgment, eyes already back on the screen, and I trudge toward the bathroom. 

 

_ I mean, it’s not really lying  _ that _ much, I just don’t...study...basically ever... _ I try to reason myself into feeling less bad as the hot water beats down on my shoulders, but the truth worms its way up to my head.  _ I hate law, I want to drop out, I don’t want to do this anymore _ . The thoughts overwhelm me until I’m clenching a fist and leaning against the cool tile wall to hold me up. 

 

_ Phil’s so successful at everything he’s done, he’d think I’m an idiot for just dropping out - I mean, he has his master’s already, and I can barely keep it together enough to get through more than a year of studying law.  _ I take a steadying breath, then try to let the water drown everything out before I have to put on a calm face in front of Phil.

 

I just finish drying off in the bathroom when I hear the pizza arrive, so I wait for the telltale click of the door closing before returning to the living room. Phil’s got the pizza set out, and the smell temporarily distracts me from all the nonsense running around in my head.

 

“Delicious,” I note, staring at the gooey cheese.  _ If I’m chewing something, that means I’m not thinking _ .

 

“I could say the same of you,” Phil’s voice is low as he wraps his arms around my waist, and I shiver at the words and the soft breath against my ear. He follows it with a kiss to my neck, just above the collar of my shirt, then spins me slowly to face him. _ This kind of distraction might be better than pizza _ .

 

I run my fingers through his hair, getting lost in him as we kiss, getting lost in his hands pulling me closer, his chest against mine, until he breaks away. He rests his forehead against mine, giving me an appraising look, and my heart rate spikes for an entirely different reason. 

 

“What’s wrong?” His tone is so soft, so  _ concerned _ , that it snaps the last thread of control I was clinging so desperately to; a sob escapes my throat, and I drop my head to his shoulder. “Hey, whatever it is, it’ll be okay, I’m here for you,” I know he means well, but his words send spears of pain through my already deteriorating heart.  _ How can you say that, when you don’t even know? _

 

He holds me for a moment before leading us both to the sofa. The smell of pizza wafts around me, but I’m too focused now on feeling like shit for it to properly distract me. Phil pulls me into his lap, where I continue to let out choking sobs against his chest. He doesn’t say anything, just rubs small circles on my back. I don’t know if we’ve sat there for minutes or hours by the time I calm down, but it feels more like years with every thought of self-doubt running through my head and bringing on fresh tears.

 

“We don’t have to talk right now, if you don’t want to,” Phil’s voice is so soft and gentle, so caring, it almost sends me into another spiral. He presses a kiss to my hair, and the whole scene makes me sick.  _ He doesn’t even know what a loser I am, and he still cares so much for me.  _ I lean back, resolving to make this right.  _ He deserves better _ .

 

“Phil, I…” a small hiccup interrupts me, so I take a few breaths until I feel like I can speak without breaking down again. “I can’t...I can’t do this anymore,” Phil’s sharp breath makes me glance up - it takes me a few seconds to realize why he looks so hurt. “No! No, it’s not...I can’t,” I try again, steeling myself for his reaction. “ _ I want to drop out of uni, _ ” I whisper it, more to his chest than to him, and squeeze my eyes shut.  _ This is it, this is where he calls me a loser and shoves me away and realizes how worthless I am. _

 

“Okay, and why’s that?” I can feel Phil’s chest rumbling against me, and I release my breath a little.  _ Just because he hasn’t said it yet doesn’t mean he won’t. _

 

“I hate law, I don’t want to do it anymore, and I don’t know  _ what _ I want to do with my life,” I mumble, still at his chest, eyes still shut.  _ Here it comes _ …Another small sob escapes, having put all that out in the open, out for Phil to judge me.  _ Guess the fortune cookie was right, he’s probably about to break up with me. Who’d want to be with such a loser? A college dropout? _

 

“Okay,” Phil’s arms pull me back against him, so I’m fully curled into his chest, and my heart actually stops. It must, because Phil’s not judging me, not shoving me away, not laughing at my failure; time must’ve frozen, it’s the only explanation. I can barely breathe, afraid that if I do, I’ll break the whole moment. But I need answers, I need to know if this is real.

 

“ _ Okay _ ?” I whisper against him, and he gives me a small squeeze before pulling my chin up so I’m forced to stare right into his eyes.

 

“Yes, okay, if that’s what you need to do, then that’s the right decision. We can talk logistics later, but it’s obviously been bothering you for a while. We don’t have to talk about it right now. Just know that I’m here for you, okay? You can always talk to me about anything.” Watching his face as he says all this, it’s like a rollercoaster: first, serious and somber, eyebrows scrunched together, then it softens into pure concern. The part that brings fresh tears, though, is the soft smile that lights up his eyes when he says he’s here for me.  _ He’s here for me. He’s not leaving me. _

 

“Hey, now, no more of that,” a gentle thumb wipes away one of the tears that’s spilled from my eye, and some combination of a laugh and another sob escapes me. He presses a quick kiss to my lips, then pulls me back to his chest. 

 

“You’re not...leaving me?” I squeak against him, still fighting the urge to break down again - perhaps in relief, this time. I try to take a steadying breath, but it comes out more as gasps.

 

“Of course not. I love you, silly,” another kiss to my hair, which has started to curl now that it’s drying, and I bite my lip to stop another choked sob from escaping.  _ He loves me. I love him.  _

 

“I love you, too,” I mumble, then pull away and reach a still-shaky hand for the open box of pizza. “Almost as much as I love pizza,” I try a laugh, and it comes out okay, and then Phil’s laughing too. He pushes me off him and I almost fall off the sofa altogether, the hand that was extended for pizza now preventing my demise. Phil reaches past me, grabbing the  _ exact _ slice I’d been going for, so I grab his wrist and steal a quick bite of it before it reaches his mouth.

 

“Hey!” Phil shouts, but he’s still chuckling at me, and we’re both smiling - if this is the change the fortune cookie was talking about, I’d say the pain is more than worth whatever our future holds.

 

_ Fucking hell, though. No more fortune cookies. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies! If you'd like, feel free to give it a cheeky [reblog on tumblr](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/post/168256322952/fortune-cookies)


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